


Firsts

by LadyStarker



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: F/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStarker/pseuds/LadyStarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agatha finds a sneaky way to have both her madboys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts

Later, they agreed that she couldn’t have pulled it off except with the windowless rooms of the Castle to mess with their time-senses, and the connivance of the entire rest of her staff. But nobody said anything. They didn’t even notice the way the girls herded Tarvek and Gil each into a specific bedchamber, and even Tarvek was too tired to notice the obvious signs of rapid redecoration. Later on, Tarvek suspected drugs, and Gil blamed it on exhaustion and … well, anyway, both madboys crashed hard into sleep.

The next morning, Agatha arose in a leisurely fashion, still missing the feel of a man-- men-- next to her. While she bathed and dressed in that central room, she mulled over recollections of the ‘night’ before...

* * *

  
When Tarvek woke and saw Agatha standing by his bed in chemise and pantalettes, looking at him hungrily, his first thought was, “NO!”

  
Agatha saw the panic cross his face, and set down the candle, saying. “No, it’s all right, it’s me. Lucrezia didn’t come back.”

“Oh, thank god.” He was so boneless with relief he almost wasn’t surprised when she slid into bed with him, and pulled him down beside her. She was enveloped in his scent, part sandalwood, part cinnamon, a hint of cayenne-- all redhead, and all quite male.

“Tarvek... please... kiss me?”

They’d kissed before, more than once, but this was different. This was for keeps, and she had no intention of letting him ‘protect’ her out of it. Fortunately, the hungry feel of his mouth on hers,  as if he was starving and she was the only food he’d ever want, suggested he wouldn’t be hard to convince.

* * *

Gil, on the other hand, was more practical, and more drowsy. When she sat down on the edge of his bed, he assumed he was still asleep, and accepted her into his arms easily. He drew her down beside him and cuddled her close. Inhaling his scent, she pulled his head down to her, and reached to kiss him.His kiss was sweet, and gentle, but powerful. Only when she arched against him did he shake off the fog and realize that the warm, willing woman in his bed was real, and really his Agatha.

“Agatha. Agatha? Are you really here?” He looked like… like someone hoping for a miracle.

“Yes, yes, I’m here.” She snuggled closer to him.

“I’ve dreamt you before, you know. Especially after I thought you died. I didn’t want to sleep, because I dreamt you. And then I’d wake up and you were gone. And I was alone again.” His voice was raw.

“Oh, Gil.” She held him tighter.

“My father always says ‘most people spend most of their lives alone.’ But when I’m with you, I’m not alone.”

She cast around for something, some lover’s-promise she could fairly give. “Gil. Gil, when I leave you, I promise I’ll be back. ”

“That’s enough. As long as you’re out there in the world, my love. Just don’t die on me again.” She closed her eyes, holding back the tears.

“Agatha... I love you. No matter what happens. ”

“Shhh, I know. Please kiss me again?”

* * *

  
Tarvek’s hands were everywhere, strong and slender. She could tell he was still measuring her responses and planning how to best please her, even though both of them were dizzy with desire. She had to pull back for a minute to catch her breath.

“Agatha... I love you.”

“I know. I love you too, Tarvek.” She was looking at his shoulder under her arm. How could the skin feel so soft, and the muscle underneath so hard? “I want you.”

“Agatha.. are you sure? Will it be all right in the morning?” He sounded honestly afraid, for once.

“Yes, love. I will still love you in the morning. I promise. I may even trust you.... And for right now, right here-- I trust you completely.”

“I’m not very trustworthy, Agatha.”

“That’s not news to me, you manipulative schemer. But I know you love me, and you wouldn’t do anything to harm me, and I think you’ll be honest with me in bed.”

He appeared to be tearing up. “Yes, Agatha. You can trust me,” he choked out, “here and now.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

The feel of Gil’s warm hands smoothing down her back over the silk undergarments, the solidity of his chest against her own were a whole different kind of excitement. She was wriggling against him, waiting for the hands to reach her buttocks, when he stopped.

“Agatha... “

“Why did you stop?”

“I love you. But…this is going awfully fast.”

“Argh. If you tell me this isn’t the right time, I’ll smack you.”

“Um. All right.”

“Go back to what you were doing, you idiot.”

“If you’re sure?”

In response, she grabbed his ass, hard, and ground hard against him. “Yes. I love you. I want you. That’s why I’m here. Are you going to keep stopping to ask that all the time?”

“Well, yes. Probably.”

“Drat you.” She bit his neck, and rejoiced to hear him gasp.

* * *

She tweaked Gil’s nipple with one hand, just to see what would happen. Not much, although he was already breathing hard.  
She could feel him fumbling with the fasteners of her chemise, and he seemed to be cursing under his breath. Then he gave up and slid a hand up under the hem, cupping her breast with one large, calloused hand. That was full, and warm... and then he slid his thumb across her nipple. The sensation filled her like a balloon inflating.

She needed something ... ”Want...more,” she mumbled.

She rolled onto her back, grabbing him to bring him with her, then swiftly unfastened her vest and released her breasts. It felt like they were bursting out toward him.

His eyes were incredulous and worshipful as he cupped a hand around each and caressed. When he lowered his head and rested it in her cleavage, she felt her whole body spark.

She wrapped her arms around him to treasure the bond between them. Yes. Not alone. This, she thought, must be what worshiping Zeetha’s goddess was like.  Like some huge kitten, he nuzzled her bosom all over, submerging her into a sea of sensation. Slowly, he licked his way from the cleavage to a nipple, and began suckling. “I’m going to die … but I’ll die happy,” she thought. His mouth pulling at her was such an overwhelming feeling. She now knew what it felt like to be an airship, launching. Her arms fell to the bed, boneless, and her abdomen felt like it was full of warm, tingling caramel. He could keep doing that until the end of time as far as she was concerned.

* * *

With the flat of her palm, she skimmed across Tarvek’s nipple, and was rewarded by a moan. The hard point felt so good against her hand, she did it again, and he moaned again. Oooh. Fun. Hm…

She wriggled herself lower, despite his mumbled protests, and began to flick with her tongue, then suck in earnest while toying with the other nipple with a free hand.

He was incoherent, but it seemed the harder she pinched the more he enjoyed it.  MMMM...

One of his hands was clenching on the bedsheet, but the other stroked her side in a gentle fever.

Finally he moaned, “Agatha- love- I have to …” and pulled her up and rolled them over until she was on her back. His hands were busy on her breasts, suddenly, and there was no way she could think through the overwhelming pleasure. First he gently stroked and rolled the nipples through the silk of her vest, but that wasn’t enough.

She opened her eyes to see his, dark and predatory, for a moment as he lowered his mouth to suck one nipple through the silk, while the opposite hand slid under the hem of her vest and thrummed the other nipple. This, she thought, must be what it felt like to be a balloon flower-- or a water lily-- opening. She wouldn’t have been surprised if blooms had appeared in the air over each breast. She was moaning helplessly.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes, and gently began unfastening her bodice, holding her glance. Now she understood what “smoky eyes” meant in those dime novels. She wanted to fall back and let her eyes roll back in her head, but couldn’t-- she had to go on looking at his expression. He was kneeling, now, leaning over her.

He smoothed his fingers over the curve of her breasts, but went right for the nipples. “Turnabout is fair play,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her while gently pinching both points. Now her eyes did roll back in her head. He alternated between sucking and pinching her nipples, turning the sensation up higher and higher, while she whimpered with pleasure. He was thrumming faster and faster, turning up the pitch-- If I were a generator, she thought, people would be running for cover from the explosion. It felt like a cable was tightening between her clit and her nipples,tighter and tighter until she felt it release and plunged into an ocean of orgasm.

* * *

She slid her hand gently down Gil’s body, trying to wrap her hand and her mind around the erection she felt against her. Stroking her palm up and down his length through the cloth made her head swim, her hand and her private parts all seeming joined by a pleasurable, needy, itchy warmth. It couldn’t be as big as it seemed, could it? “Gil...” she whispered, “May I?” as she slid her fingers under the waistband of his drawers and stopped until he gave a strangled “yes”. Two could play the permissions game, she thought, until her fingers reached the hard-on and curled around it.

Oh. Oh my.  She needed to see this, she thought. Her fingers couldn’t be right. She tugged fruitlessly at his drawers then begged, “Off,” in a hoarse command/question. “If you want,” he replied and rolled on his side, helping her wiggle him out of the confining cloth.

Her first thought was, Is that really... um... will it fit? but with a pleasurable shudder. Her second, Well, babies come OUT that hole, I expect it will stretch. And the thought made her insides melt. If she’d been standing, her knees wouldn’t have held her.

She stroked the length of it, enjoying the silken feel of the skin and the rock hardness underneath. The head was prominent, rounded-- hey, it DID look like a plum. MMmm... a plum she wanted to lick.. Wait…

“Gil? You’re circumcised.”

“Yes.” He must be distracted, he was coherent enough to make a joke. “I noticed.”

“But... oh dear... um?”

“Apparently, according to Father, my Mother wanted it done. Traditional in her country, where ever that is. One of the few things he’s told me about her. When I was a kid, I wondered if it meant I was Jewish... So did everyone else. But the professors in Paris say there are some other groups that circumcise.”

“They didn’t cover that in Beetleburg.” They did cover the basics, but it was hard to think of a rod like Gil’s as a ‘penis’ -- that had always sounded silly to her, something that Latin mothers taught their sons to call it when they were toddlers. Phallus... oh yes, that made much more sense. Something weighty, and powerful.

He was clearly enjoying the way she was touching him, but she suspected there was more that could be done with it. “Gil? Can you show me how -- how to make it feel good for you?”

“It does feel good, love.” If she hadn’t already been in the Madness place, she wouldn’t have had the courage to press on.

“Yes, but…show me how you like to do it for yourself? Please?”

* * *

Tarvek was fiddling with the ribbon on her pantalettes.

She decided to distract him. Lilith had warned her, years ago, that a girl’s touch on a boy’s “sausage” ,as Lilith had put it, could literally make him unable to think. The feel of what she was pretty sure was his hard penis against her belly was certainly making it hard for her to think. Besides, she was curious. She slipped her hand down between them and sought out the outline through his drawers. Pipe, the boys called it, and she could see why... mmm... oh, very nice. He was groaning against her mouth now, and once she slipped her hand inside the drawers and wrapped it around that pipe, he dropped his head to her shoulder, still kissing and nibbling but clearly overwhelmed.

“Tarvek, I want to see you naked.” she said, trying to untie his drawer-strings with one hand. He was too far gone to respond until she put both hands to work on the string, whereupon he moved her hands out of the way and began untying, grumbling “that will leave you overdressed, my lady.”

“Oh, then I’ll take mine off too,” she responded and he shuddered.

Once she had him exposed to her gaze, she nudged him on to his back and relished her view. Zeetha told her that in the country they called a man’s organ a ‘cock’-- because they rise up in the morning like roosters, and are proud like roosters, she had said. She could see it.

And access to it-- stroking, teasing, seeing how the foreskin retracted-- ah, that was why arum flowers were so funny!... there was observational science there, though there was also the feel of him, the knowledge of his pleasure in this, the trust, melting her.

She took his relaxed right hand in her own left one and placed it over hers. “Show me how you would do this for yourself.” He resisted a little, but one look in her bright eyes and his darker ones filled with Madness. He helped her stroke the length of him while she relished the feel, and the power. Just as if he had been made to fit in her hand. Just the right size to hold.

His eyes were closed, his other hand grabbing her shoulder. He let go while she kept stroking, teasing.  

Soon she wanted more, leaning over him and licking her way down his body from his sensitive nipples, down the ribs, carefully over the ticklish area usually covered by his drawers-- if she kept the pressure of her tongue hard enough, he moaned and arched-- and finally, her mouth was there. Ready for him. Scared but excited to learn a new skill.

She ran her tongue gently up the length of his pipe and felt him jerk and heard him groan. Inexorably, the head, now mostly exposed, drew her. She opened her lips around it and was overwhelmed by the sensation in her mouth.

 

 

But it was all too soon when he whimpered. “Stop. please stop. Too much.”

“Not good?”

“Oh, very, very good. Just…too much. Too sensitive. It gets like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be... it’s amazing. Just…come up here, love..”

Once again she was enveloped in his arms, luxuriating in the feel of his naked body pressed against her.

“Agatha. Oh, my lady. My love. My princess…do you have any idea how wonderful it feels to be here with you?”

“I think I do. It’s like I could never be lonely again.”

He choked. “You were lonely?”

“Oh yes.”

* * *

Gil stroked her hair gently. “Love, I want to... please?”

She released him and looked up into his eyes, confused. “You want me to stop?”

“No, but I want to give you the same pleasure. I think I know how.”

“An experiment... All right...”

“We’ll need your pantalettes off, dear heart.”  His hands were working on the waistband, smoothing the fabric down over her buttocks. “Just shift a little...”

“Oh! Yes.”

When she was naked, he stared mesmerizedly, at her in the candlelight and then gently pushed her over, first on to her side, then on to her back, and spread her thighs, climbing between them. “You’re too far away,” she grumbled. “I can’t kiss you.”

“Relax. Let me try kissing you. ” She was startled at first by his mouth on the curve of her belly, let alone his hand petting her vulva. He spread her thighs further, and she was distracted by the way his hands felt, calloused palms against her tender skin.  Tentatively, he stroked the outer lips, and she could feel the wetness spreading between them. Eventually, his tongue reached her, and she thought of the cat again, as he licked along the slit several times before burrowing in.When his tongue touched her spot, she was once again afloat in sensation. As he tenderly licked the tiny lump, everything except the waves of pleasure and desire faded. She knew she was panting, moaning, and eventually screaming, but it was all she could do not to flail as the spasms overtook her.

When she could breathe again, he was lying next to her, looking indecently pleased with himself, but also surprised, like a cat that has managed to drag a whole cooked chicken off the table onto its head.

* * *

 

When Tarvek reached down to stroke her as she was stroking him, it was all right at first. The soft caresses across her lower lips made her melt, and she moaned and wriggled against him. She could feel the lips swelling, opening, and soon the slide of his fingers through her wetness. But then, damn him, he went right for the button, rubbing her clitoris.

She barely managed not to kick him anyplace debilitating as her body spasmed painfully and her legs flailed. “OOwwwhhh!”

He stopped. “Agatha?”

“Too much... ow…ow...” she whimpered miserably. “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not. It hardly ever works for -me- either, unless I sneak up on it, sort of. Dammit! I thought with someone else...” She wanted to cry.

“Sshh. It’s all right, love.” Her obvious distress brought out his chivalric side immediately, thankfully overlaying the guilt of having made her uncomfortable instead of pleased. He held her and kissed her with sweet but undemanding passion until they both overcame their reactions and roused again. Then he spoke.

“It was all right, before, wasn’t it? When I wasn’t touching your... your clitoris?”

“Yes! Yes. It was lovely.” She could feel tears of embarrassment trying to return.

“Well, proper lab protocol, we back up to the part of the experiment that works and go from there, hmmm?”

Relieved, she nodded decisively and brought his hand to her groin, all eagerness recovered.

It didn’t take very much petting for his fingers to slip back between her pussy lips;that, she thought later, must be why they call it a pussy-- pet it and it purrs! He moved lower, licking over one of her nipples while continuing to stroke the length of her vulva. She was definitely melting. All the liquid in her body seemed to be flowing out between her thighs to coat his hand. But she could also feel a hunger in her inner parts, and it was getting harder and harder to control. Every time his fingers touched the entrance to her vagina, she wanted...

Well, why not ask? “Tarvek. Your finger? Inside? Please?”

It was like he had been waiting all his life to hear that. She could feel him running his fingertips around the entrance, and she wriggled with wanting. Slowly, he slipped a finger into the channel and began to explore. She groaned, feeling the engulfing fullness.

She moaned and writhed, arching her hips up toward his hand, and begged him “More, more!” He quickly grew confident, then dizzy with power. Soon, his head rested on her belly while he pumped two fingers into her vagina as quickly as the clenching would let him, chanting breathlessly, “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She felt as enormous as that Egyptian sky goddess they’d read about, spreading across the landscape, stretched and expanded by the drumming inside her-- and yet, he was with her too, connected intimately with her heart and soul via the sweet throb of his hands. She spiraled into orgasm after orgasm, screaming and grunting until her whole body lifted off the bed in a final spasm andclench of pleasure, and collapsed back on the bed. She whispered “I love you.”

* * *

They could have gone on like this indefinitely, she felt, but on the other hand, she had come here to do something specific, and she so wanted to do it. Goodness knows how Gil was standing it, if gossip was correct about it being harder for men to wait than for women.

“Gil?” She whispered.

“I love you. Was that what you wanted to know?”

“No, um, er...Gil. Could we…should we...um. You know, go further?”

“Further? You mean like, um...” He was flustered and at a loss for an exact word, “fornicate?”

He blushed firey red at saying something so coarse to her.

“Yes, please.” She giggled, remembering a euphemism from Beetleburg, “Swing your clapper in my bell, so to speak.”

“MMmmmm,” he groaned, “that would be lovely. But are you sure you’re ready?”

“If I were any more ready,” she chuckled, “I think I’d die. Please?”

“Oh. Love. Yes. But...I’ve never... um... how shall we do this?”

She’d thought long and hard about the answer to that question, and made a decision, based on some good advice she had never known she’d need.

“I think... um. if you lay back, Gil? And I, um.... sort of climb on top?”

It was hard to say it, even harder to stick to it. The moments he’d leaned over her, kissing her, had given her a melting desire to be under him, to let him do the work while she just relaxed into the pleasure. But she had to do it just right, and that meant the same for both of them, and Zeetha said.... Zeetha had said that it was important to keep the upper hand, especially at the beginning. And with her madboys, she knew that was twice as important. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to try some of nearly everything the books in the Seraglio hinted at, but right here and right now she could do it only one way.

She knelt over him, carefully positioning her hips. Oh, drat. Nobody had ever mentioned the difficulty of arrangements. She’d somehow assumed it would just stick up, in a prone position... she would have felt stupid except it was impossible to feel stupid when she was dizzy with desire and her blood felt like warm caramel in her arteries. “Gil-- um-- help?”

After staring confusedly at her for a minute, he caught on, and slipped his hand between their bodies to line them up.

She looked deep into his brown eyes, luxuriating in the love and wonder and desire on his face, and began to slide down. “Slowly, dear one,” he warned her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” was most of what she could say or think in response. There was no pain, just a little stretching-- perhaps he wasn’t quite so big after all -- and an enormous feeling of being full, fulfilled, having found -- well, perhaps not the other half of herself, but definitely a major missing piece. Gil groaned and she could see he was far, far into the Madness Place, but she could also see the love in his eyes. Fully seated now, she lifted up again, and felt the combined disappointment of letting him go a bit, and the rising of Madness to have more. She had no words but moans and “love…love…love” now, as she tried different rhythms, and he was no more coherent, until a particularly wild movement of hers brought a wince of discomfort out of him. “Sorry…sorry…sorry” she panted, and grabbed Gil’s hands, gluing them to her hips. “Help me, please…please love. Love me…just…love me.” He began to move upward against her, and... she was flying, floating, riding... it was like falling, like being on his falling machine, and looking in his eyes, it was that original moment of  having him believe in her, the two of them working together in the Madness, improving the engine, inventing in tandem, and then the shock of fear, and then the wild pleasure of flight, and she leaned down and took his mouth in a kiss, and she felt her innards clamp down on his phallus, and he was growling and arching upward and she could feel it, could feel him coming, and she was slamming down on him and suddenly she too was spiraling out into a what felt remarkably like a galaxy of pleasure-stars, crying out “I love you..” and falling forward across his chest.

(Stars? Stars? some small part of her brain asked. Perhaps more like tiny gunpowder charges all over her body.)

When coherence returned, and she could get her voice to work again, the first thing she said, after “I love you,” was, “That was better than flying. Almost better than Science AND flying.”

He chuckled. “I love you too. And this time we didn’t have to be stopped by General Khrizhan.”

 

* * *

 

With Tarvek, the two of them had been rolling over and over in the bed, exchanging fierce kisses, clinging to each other. When they had to stop for breath, they didn’t let go.

She knew he was still afraid of losing her-- and she, of him. He was scared; she could feel it in his shaking breath, in the strength of his grasp, in the Madness with which he pursued her pleasure. She wanted to wrap her whole body around him and never let go. She knew, also, that he was as inexperienced in this final act as she was.

“Tarvek.. my Storm King-- do you want to come inside?”

He pulled back a little. She could see the fear back in his face, mixed with the confused pleasure of hearing her say those things...”Inside?”

“Yes....” he was going to make her say it, wasn’t he? “Inside. Your penis in my vagina. You know, sexual congress?” His eyes seemed to roll back in his head, and he gripped her tighter.

“Is that what you want, my lady? I want to do whatever pleases you.” Half of her was annoyed at the romantic soppiness, half excited at the thought.

She sighed a little, but then, “I love you. I want to feel you inside me. Please?”

“As you wish... but... I want be sure you enjoy it.”

“I promise, I will.”

She nudged him onto his back, despite wondering how it would be to feel him over her, in front or behind. Even the thought of him taking her from behind, something that she had never seriously considered before, despite the purloined copy of De Figurus Veneris that the Beetleburg students passed around, made her tingle and feel as if her innards were made of taffy. It was important to do it this way, do it just the same, and be in charge, even if it was only symbolically. Someday, she knew, she would ask Tarvek-…tell Tarvek... to pleasure her, and she knew he would release the tightly-reined strength in him, the mad desire she’d felt from both of them when his hand was inside her. But for now...

She straddled his hips, rubbing her labia against him. He groaned as her pubic hair and her wetness  rubbed against his groin. Looking into her eyes, he took her hand, kissed it, and said “I love you, Lady Heterodyne. Princess of my heart.”

“And I love you...” she said shifting slightly...” OOOhhh... MMM...” Suddenly, the length of him was tucked between her lips, and the head rubbing against her clitoris.

He briefly shut his eyes, then grinned, happily. “Does that please you, love?”

“Oh, oh yes...” How could she make it better?...ah. Flexing her thighs.  Like riding a horse. Yes. that was it. Mmmm. He was watching her, smiling, as her eyes started to roll back in her head.

But it wasn’t enough. No. This wasn’t everything she came for, she was still empty inside, and she needed to feel him inside her, as she had felt his fingers earlier.

She leaned forward to kiss him, stretching up, and felt the head, soaked in her fluids, pointing. “Help me?”  

He reached between them, meeting her hand, and the two of them guided him home into her. He was hesitant, but she was not. The feel of his phallus opening up her vagina, filling her,and the look on his face: the shocked, overwhelmed mystery; that was pushing her farther, even beyond the Madness place.  

“Are you all right?” he managed to whisper.

“Better than all right. So much better...”She wanted to cry. She wanted to sing. She wanted... more of this. “I love you.” And she started to move, and he began to move with her, both of them learning how to make a rhythm that pleased them both, and yet... she could feel, not just the pleasure in her own body... but an echo, a feeling that didn’t seem to be her own, that was keyed to his panting breaths and his straining muscles, to the grimaces of pleasure that already were flitting across his face.

“Not hurting you?” he asked, begging for confirmation, and she replied, “Oh no, feels gggggoooodddaurgggghhhh.” He began to pick up the pace, and she felt both of them heading for some sort of height, as if they were racing down a rapid river toward a cliff, a waterfall. And watching him, seeing his face, was bringing it faster and faster.

“I love you Agatha I love you I love you love you Tarvek love love love,” and they were chanting together. She could feel his pleasure in the new sensation of wet woman wrapped everywhere around him for the first time and her pleasure in being filled for the first time and they were Heterodyning and it was like the Si Vales: she could feel him and everything made sense and suddenly he was frantic, heaving and arching into her and his growl-shout and the feel of his climax sent her over the edge right behind him, clamping tight down on him to grab all the pleasure from him that she could. She was pretty sure she’d grunted like a pig and screamed like a steam-whistle, and she didn’t care. “Love love love....”

Exhausted, she dropped her head and kissed him. Reading her mind, he helped her rotate them both onto their sides, still engaged, although not without a few “ow”s from him and giggles from her.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, love shining in his face-- and it was only then she realized that she had no recollection of how this talking business worked.

* * *

 

It was all too soon that she had to excuse herself, regretfully. She would so much rather have lain there, curled up next to one or the other of them, all night long. Someday she would. Someday she would, she hoped, be able to lay curled between them, if they would allow it, and snuggle against both of them all night long. And then none of them would have to be alone. A jolt of desire went through her, thinking of what might precede such snuggling, if they would tolerate it, her poor jealous, competitive madboys.

She curled up in a hastily made-up bed in a room different from the one they thought she was sleeping in, and sank into dreams where she kept finding one half of a pair --of shoes, tools, wheels, wings, even hands- and losing track of the other.

* * *

Tarvek woke first, but lay still hoping not to be thrown from this dream. Eventually the disarray of the bed and the distinctive smell of girl and sex convinced him that perhaps his alternately muddled and joyously clear memories were somewhat accurate.

He stumbled off to the bathroom, hating to wash Agatha off him, but embarrassed by his own sweat and desperate to shave in case he had another chance to kiss her.

* * *

Gil regained consciousness slowly, all too aware of the warm dent by his side where she had been and wasn’t now.

Where was she? Was she all right? Could they repeat last night’s events sometime soon? She had promised she would return, and he trusted her.

He shambled toward water as a necessary prelude to finding his lady love and asking all those questions.

 

* * *

 

Gil and Tarvek found themselves nearly face to face, exiting their rooms.

Dimo, standing nearby, cackled maniacally. “Yup, kin smell the Lady’s claim on hyuse. Hyu’s hers now, all right.”

They looked at each other, trying desperately to do the math. Each man realizing that someone had deflowered Agatha last night, and it might or might not have been him.

Agatha burst sleepily out another door, and held out a hand to each of them. “Good morning, my loves. Both of you.” She was radiant. The glow of her happiness wiped out any desire to one-up each other. Whoever had done it, the woman they loved was happy, absolutely transparently happy,-- and without a tool in her hand, even, for the first time since they’d known her. Tarvek took her left hand, Gil her right, and both stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek. She chortled happily and drew them both into her embrace.

Zeetha, Theo and Sleipnir chuckled behind her. “That is one cool trick the Castle has up its sleeve, right?” asked Sleipnir. “It’s only those two rooms, and the operator has to start out in the center room. The doubling effect only lasts a couple of hours, so it’s not time travel or anything. I guess the Heterodynes used it to handle paperwork, or to negotiate with allies, or something.”

“Wait,” gasped Tarvek, “you mean...”

“Agatha, did you...?” chimed in Gil.

“I didn’t want to have to choose, you see,” she responded.

“And you both got what you wanted-- at the same time!” laughed Zeetha.

“And with great enthusiasm, too!” chortled the Kastle.

 

Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek all blushed bright red.


End file.
